


Enchantment and Strength (I So Adore You)

by Iamthesmileyface



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Hospitals, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Mystery's barely in this sorry, Pining, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-22 14:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17061452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamthesmileyface/pseuds/Iamthesmileyface
Summary: Purple roses symbolize enchantment and love at first sight.Blue orchids symbolize strength, beauty, and power.Sunflowers symbolize adoration, happiness, and loyalty.Arthur Kingsman has flowers filling his lungs, and he is so fucked.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You know, the number of hanahaki fics in this fandom is surprisingly low, given that we have canonical flowers that represent the characters.

The first time it had happened, Arthur had been terrified. 

  
  
  


He had been hanging out with Lewis and Vivi, had begged off a job due to a persistent and painful cough only to have Vivi insist that the job could be done later, and that Lewis needed to make Arthur his famous Super Spicy Sick-Day Soup so he'd recover faster. The two of them had been sitting on the couch, Arthur in the armchair (he'd insisted, he didn't want them to catch whatever the hell this was), Mystery curled up on the dog bed in the corner of the room, the TV on some generic sitcom Arthur didn't recognize. He wasn't watching it anyway, too preoccupied with trying to keep his face free from any kind of lovesick or otherwise longing expression as he snuck glances at the happy couple. He'd given up on trying to keep his face from flushing, though the redness, at least, could be blamed on the nearly-empty big bowl of soup in his lap. For all that he was an amazing cook, Lewis did tend to forget that not everyone (and specifically Arthur) shared his spice tolerance. Arthur wiped his nose, glancing again at Lewis and Vivi, cuddled up against each other. Lewis laughed loudly at something on the show, and Vivi leaned up to whisper into his ear. It was such a simple act, such a casual scene, but it left Arthur feeling like he'd been stabbed in the chest. No, wait, maybe that was the coughing. He covered his mouth, doubling over as the fit hit him and didn't show signs of stopping.

  
"Arthur!" The couple on the couch cried out, almost in unison. Over his hacking he could hear them start to get up and waved his other hand at them, motioning vaguely and desperately for them to stay where they were. Vivi always got sick in the winter, and even though it was only September Arthur didn't want to risk her catching this. He grabbed a tissue from the box at his feet, bringing it up as he felt the coughing and hacking come to an end. 

  
When it finally finished, he looked up through streaming eyes to see Lewis, down on one knee in front of the armchair, looking incredibly worried. For once, his eyes were visible under the shadow of his ridiculous pompadour. Lewis brushed a hand across Arthur’s forehead, and Arthur thanked whatever gods there were that coughing always turned him into some kind of lobster mutant anyway. He cleared his throat and forced up a grin, though it came out more like a grimace. "I’m fine." Lewis’s hand fell away, leaving the ghost of his touch still burnt onto Arthur’s skin.

 

Lewis ignored him, turning to face Vivi. “Hey Viv? Could you go get some blankets for Arthur? I’ll get some more soup.”

 

“I’m on it, Lew!” Vivi vaulted up from the couch, striding out of the living room. She poked her head back around the corner. “The winter blankets or the summer ones?”

 

“The winter ones.”

 

As Vivi raced off and Lewis plucked the bowl from Arthur’s lap, Arthur cleared his throat again. “Really, guys, I’m fine! You don’t need to…and they’re already gone.” His voice was too scratchy to be convincing anyway, and he knew it. As he moved to toss his most recent tissue into the small garbage bag at his feet, a splash of color folded into it caught his eye. Quickly uncrumpling it, he stared down at what looked like two large, ragged petals, one purple and one blue. They didn’t look like any of the wildflowers that grew near their apartment, and even if they had that wouldn’t explain why he had literally coughed them up.

 

He could hear Lewis coming in from the kitchen and Vivi dragging blankets down the hall, and shoved the tissue in his pocket, snagging his phone from the coffee table before he could be laden down with sweltering blankets and another bowl of face-melting soup.

 

Arthur was antsy for the rest of the afternoon and evening, eventually feigning sleep as the sitcom episode ended and was switched to some romcom that Arthur also didn’t recognize. It was possible that he just didn’t watch enough TV. When he was sure that they were enveloped in it (in fact, he could hear Lewis’s soft snores), he pulled his phone out, quickly googling “coughed up flower petals”. The results were pretty much unanimous, a Wikipedia article and a WebMD article standing out and citing something called  _ Hanahaki _ . 

 

Reading through them blurred together a bit, filling his head with static. Phrases like  _ unrequited love _ , and  _ plant growth in the lungs _ , and  _ surgical removal of the growths also removes all emotions for the person the afflicted loves, _ and  _ without treatment or requited love, Hanahaki is fatal _ seemed to jump out at him. This…this couldn’t be a real disease, right? But the diagrams, the articles themselves…

 

Arthur put his phone down, the static in his head eclipsing the blanket mound in front of him. He had flowers growing in his lungs, because Lewis and Vivi didn’t love him back. His throat constricted, and it felt like his intestines were being ripped from his body. He knew that they didn’t, knew that he had no chance with them, but it somehow still hurt. And the  _ way _ he found out! It wasn’t enough for them to just reject him, no! He had to be  _ dying _ because of it! He brought a hand up to his mouth, tears threatening to choke him before the flowers ever could. 

 

But at the same time, he  _ couldn’t _ get it removed. Vivi and Lewis, he’d been alone before he met them, and he would be alone without them, and being alone again, alone like that? Without anyone but his gruff, unemotional uncle and his hamster? It would break him. He wouldn’t even have their friendship! He wouldn’t feel anything for them  _ at all _ . No friendship, no caring, no nothing. He would have  _ nothing _ . No more afternoons spent at Pepper Paradiso, with the Pepper family loud and bright and dynamic; no more Vivi physically dragging him, protesting, out of the garage while he’s still in his oil-stained coveralls; no more game nights, no more — He was almost hyperventilating, shoving his hand in his mouth to muffle the keen that threatened to break out of his throat.

 

On the other hand, he didn’t want to die. God, he really didn’t want to die. Arthur was finally doing better, going to therapy and taking his meds and everything! He hadn’t had a serious suicidal ideation in months! And now,  _ now _ he had to die! The tears spilled over as he bit down on his hand, muffling a wrenching sob. He didn’t hear Vivi or Lewis stir. But Mystery, weirdly intelligent dog he was, propped his legs up on Arthur’s lap, nosing and whuffling at his teary face. It didn’t really help, but Arthur patted him anyway, tears still carving their way down his cheeks and choked sobs forcing themselves out of his throat.

 

A few days later, he looked up “hanahaki for two people” and got nothing.

  
~*~   
  


Now, months later, he’s still terrified. 

 

Arthur hunched over the toilet, heaving up alternating bile and bloody flowers. The stems of the roses tore up his throat, and the orchids tickled unbearably, leading to more and increasingly vicious coughing in a horrible cycle. The coughing triggered his gag reflex, acid setting the open wounds aflame. He pressed his face against the cold porcelain, exhausted, as the convulsions finally slowed, leaving him panting.

 

He shook slightly as he stood, aching down to the very bone, wiping his mouth and flushing the blood-spattered flowers — full flowers now, not just petals — down. It was getting worse. They were going to notice the flowers soon, if they hadn’t already. 

 

“Artie? Everything alright in there?” Arthur sighed. Speak of the devil and you shall see his horns, they say. “I  _ will _ break down this door if you don’t give me some sign you’re still alive, Artie,” Vivi continued, starting to sound worried. 

 

“I’m fine, Viv.” Arthur rasped, and winced. His voice completely destroyed any and all chance he had of convincing her that he really was fine.

 

“I’m about to ban that word from this apartment!” Vivi yelled through the door. Arthur rinsed the blood and bile out of his mouth and opened the door, faint tremors still wracking his frame. Vivi’s irritation evaporated almost instantly, and she put a hand on his slumped shoulder. “Seriously, Arthur, you look like absolute shit.”

 

Arthur managed a weak chuckle. “Feel like shit, too. But I’m pretty sure it’s just food poisoning.”

 

Vivi scowled. “I’ll take your word for it for now. But if you’re still sick like this by Tuesday, I’m going to drive you to the hospital myself.”

 

“That’d kill me before — whatever this is, can.” He shuddered, only partially exaggerated. Vivi drove like she’d gone to driving school in the Mad Max wasteland.

 

She laughed, loud and unashamed, punching his shoulder playfully. He bit down another cough at the sound. 

 

“So where’s, where’s Lew?” The building seemed to be tilting a little, and he frowned. That wasn’t normal. Maybe the apartment was haunted (again)?

 

“Still at work. I asked him to pick up some…Arthur? Are you…” Her words faded and dipped around him, blue surrounding him, reaching for him as the floor fell out from under him, blue like the sky, blue like lakes and oceans and rivers, blue like orchids before they’re stained with too-red blood,  b l u e.

 

~*~   
  
  


“So where’s, where’s Lew?”

 

“Still at work. I asked him to pick up some…” Vivi knew Arthur wasn’t fine. His eyes were hazy, the bags under them were cut into his cheeks, there was a weird pale cast to his face, and he’d barely eaten anything at all in the last few days. He hadn’t kept up with his appearance, either, his hair still clumped with yesterday’s gel and the shadow of stubble dusting his cheeks. Plus, he’d just spent the last fifteen minutes in the bathroom puking his guts up! You’d think, after about seven years of friendship, he’d know he couldn’t lie to her successfully. Or that he’d remember that the tiny apartment they’d lived in for two years had walls thinner than paper. Either or. She was just waiting for him to break and admit that he was seriously sick. But then Arthur started swaying on his feet, his breath audibly labored, and she broke off her beginning ramble. “Arthur? Are you —” And before she could finish, his eyes had rolled back and he pitched forward. 

 

“ _ SHIT!” _ She lunged for him, wrapping her arms around his limp torso, sinking to the ground much more slowly. “Arthur? Arthur!” No response, not even a twitch. 

 

The world went sharp and still around her. She rolled him off of her, checking his pulse. He was clammy, but his pulse was…actually, that was almost worryingly fast. Mystery trotted in, making a beeline for Arthur’s supine form, nosing at him with a soft bark. Vivi pushed him away with a sharp “Not now, boy,” and pulled her phone out of her bra.

 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The operator’s voice was jarring.

 

“I’m at 1026 Monroe Street, Apartment 417, and my friend needs an ambulance.” Vivi kept a hand on Arthur’s throat, fingers pressed up against his pulse point. The rapid beat of his heart was as grounding as it was worrying, kept her here in the now with a cold hand gripping her guts.

 

“Alright, ma’am, what’s your name?”

 

“Vivi Yukino, my friend’s name is Arthur Kingsman.” God, couldn’t they just send an ambulance already?!

 

“Can you describe the emergency?”

 

“Arthur just spent about fifteen minutes vomiting, and he’s passed out. He’s breathing, but his breath is shallow and labored, he’s completely unresponsive, clammy, and his pulse is elevated.”

 

“Can you repeat your address for me?”

 

“1026 Monroe Street, Apartment 417.”

 

“Alright ma’am, an ambulance is on its way. It’s set to arrive in about seven minutes. Can you tell me the number you’re calling from?” Vivi could feel her own irritation and helplessness clawing at her, but her voice remained cool and smooth.

 

“432-597-1013. That’s 432-597-1013.”

 

“Thank you ma’am. Please stay on the line until the ambulance arrives.”

 

“I will. Thank you.” 

 

Vivi sat on the floor, Mystery sitting next to her and Arthur’s unconscious form half in her lap. It felt like hours before she could hear the sirens. She said goodbye to the operator, hanging up just as there was a knock at the door.

 

She followed the paramedics out of the apartment, taking the stairs down two at a time, Mystery’s claws clicking against the concrete as he chased after. There was a small crowd of rubbernecking neighbors gathered in front of the building, and Vivi barely managed to pick out a familiar face. There — Mrs. Duncan, who lived in 412. Vivi strode over to her, barely getting her attention before she launched into “HeyMrsDuncanCanYouPutMysteryIn417IThinkILeftTheDoorOpenThanksBye!” Mystery, smart dog that he was, sat down in front of Mrs. Duncan, who honestly looked a bit stunned. 

 

In the ambulance, she called Lewis. It went straight to voicemail, and she cursed viciously, earning a startled look from the paramedic driving. He must have turned off his phone for work. She wouldn’t get anywhere calling his cell. Instead, she dialed the main number for the restaurant. 

 

“Pepper Paradiso, how can I help you?” The deep and mellifluous voice was calming, even in a situation like this.

 

“Hey Mrs. Pepper, can you put Lewis on?” Before Mrs. Pepper could reprimand her for using the restaurant’s line for personal calls again, she added, “It’s an emergency. An actual emergency this time.”

 

Vivi could hear her yelling for Lewis to come to the phone. “Here he is.”

 

“Thanks Mrs. Pepper!”

 

Lewis was still using his customer service voice when he picked up the phone. “Vivi? Is everything alright?”

 

Vivi took a deep breath, just barely shaky. “No. I’m in an ambulance,” Lewis made a sound of inarticulate shock and horror, but she plowed through. “I’m not hurt, but Arthur’s way sicker than we thought. He — he passed out. After spending, like, fifteen minutes vomiting.”

 

Lewis made the noise again, sounding strangled. “They’re taking you to Griffin Medical, right? I’ll meet you there.”

 

Vivi chuckled unsteadily. “Last I checked, Griffin Medical was the only one around. I’ll see you there. I love you.”

 

“Love you too.” Lewis hung up first, and Vivi exhaled slowly, steadily. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lewis might just be a little bit overwhelmed. Lance shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick tw for hospitals, clinical descriptions of disease.

Lewis dropped the towel and gloves he was holding as he put the receiver back on its base, already moving towards the door. His mother spoke, but it faded into the white noise surrounding him. A firm hand on his arm stopped him, and he turned, his mother’s worried eyes meeting his. He said something, words fading from his memory as soon as they escaped his lips, but it must have communicated the urgency of the situation because she let go.

 

He was lucky, the restaurant wasn’t more than a few minute’s walk from the hospital. There was no way he could have driven right now, his surroundings fading into tunnel vision and his limbs feeling unfamiliar, unresponsive. When he shouldered open the doors to the hospital waiting room, he was greeted by Vivi’s loud, uncompromising voice. “What do you  _ mean _ I can’t go back with him?” The fear undercutting the anger in her tone froze his breath in his lungs. 

 

The harried-looking receptionist leaned away from where Vivi had slammed her hands down on the desk. “Ma’am, as I’ve already said, your friend is in the ICU. I cannot allow you back there.”

 

Vivi took a deep breath, but before she could start in on a tirade, Lewis gently put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Lewis apologized to the receptionist, practically dragging a red-faced Vivi to a small, uncomfortable bench, still within eyeshot of the ICU doors but far enough that they had an illusion of privacy. He sat, pulling Vivi down with him and then against him. She shifted, slightly shaky fists unclenching long enough to grasp at the damp apron he hadn’t had the clarity of mind to remove like it was a lifeline, burying her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, his eyes not leaving the doors to the ICU. Vivi spoke into his shoulder, muffled beyond comprehension, and he leaned back a little.

 

“He almost stopped breathing in the ambulance.” Her voice was thick with suppressed tears. 

 

Lewis’s heart skipped a beat. “Wh — he —” He couldn’t make a complete word, let alone a complete thought.

 

“They had him on an oxygen tank when they wheeled him out. They wouldn’t tell me anything, wouldn’t —!” She cut herself off with a frustrated noise, burying her face back into Lewis’s shoulder. 

 

“He’s — they’ve got him, he’s in the ICU, they’ll — the doctors — he’ll be fine.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, curling around her. The metal arm of the bench dug uncomfortably into his back, but he didn’t move. 

 

They sat there for what could have been minutes or hours, the ticking of the clock above their heads providing a metronome for the desperate, mostly wordless prayers spiraling around Lewis’s head. Eventually, a door slid open and a professional voice asked the room at large, “Family of Arthur Kingsman?”

 

Scrambling to get himself untangled from an equally-frantic Vivi, Lewis nearly fell as he stood. “That’s us, is he —?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish.

 

The doctor, a woman in a crisp white lab coat holding a manila folder, merely said, “If you could follow me.” She waited for them to hurry over to the door before turning and walking deeper inward. Lewis’s hand found Vivi’s, clutching it hard enough that his fingers ached. She gripped his hand just as tightly.

 

They were led to a small room, the same glaring off-white as the rest of the hospital. The doctor took a seat on one side of the desk and gestured for them to take the other chairs. Lewis was loath to release Vivi’s hand, and from the white-knuckled grip she had on his, he could guess she was equally reluctant. 

 

The doctor picked up a thin manila folder, glancing in at the papers before speaking. “My name is Dr. Emmet.” She didn’t wait for them to introduce themselves before she continued. “Your…” She paused, looking at them expectantly.

 

“Friend.” Lewis said, his gut curdling. “Is he alright?”

 

“Right. Your friend, Mr. Kingsman, has been stabilized for now, but is in a strange predicament. This will sound like a strange question, but I need you to answer honestly. Has Mr. Kingsman been in any relationships recently, that may have ended badly? Has he seemed to be in love with anyone?”

 

Lewis blinked, taken aback. Dr. Emmet was right, that was a strange question. “No?” He glanced at Vivi, who shook her head.

 

“Not that we’ve noticed.” Vivi was far more decisive.

 

“Well, that makes it more difficult. You see, Mr. Kingsman has contracted a…rather rare disease. Less than one in approximately sixty thousand people ever get it, and as such it’s not particularly well-known. It’s known as Hanahaki.” Lewis felt like he was choking on his heart. While he’d never been very interested in the medical field, Lewis had read a few novels that prominently featured Hanahaki, enough that he knew of it. And they never ended well. Vivi glanced between the doctor and Lewis, concerned. Dr. Emmet looked at him. “I take it you’ve heard of it?”

 

“Only from — media. Not real life.” Dr. Emmet nodded.

 

“I’ve never heard of it,” Vivi broke in. “Anyone mind explaining?”

 

“Hanahaki is a disease contracted from unrequited, or seemingly unrequited, love. It causes a specific plant, typically one that in some way represents the person the afflicted is in love with, to grow in the lungs and eventually suffocate the afflicted. Surgical removal of the growths is possible, but has a generally undesirable complication.” 

 

Vivi sat back, a few shades paler. “What kind of complication?”

 

“The patient, after having the growths removed, no longer has the capacity for any emotion whatsoever towards the person they fell in love with. The only true cure for Hanahaki is a confession of requited love. However, in Mr. Kingsman’s case, I’m not sure even that would be enough.”

 

“Why?” Vivi demanded, Lewis just a split second behind.

 

“Well, it seems Mr. Kingsman has two types of flowers. From the foliage structures in the x-rays, they appear to be a type of orchid and a type of rose. Moreover, the flowers have spread from his lungs into his chest cavity. Even if he received a confession, the plant matter would have to be surgically removed from his chest before it decays. Now, our hospital’s policy in Hanahaki cases is to not operate until it becomes medically necessary, or the patient requests it.” Dr. Emmet gave them a moment to absorb this before continuing with, “Is there anyone that Mr. Kingsman would have told about his romantic endeavors?” 

 

“His, his uncle? Maybe?” Vivi managed, slumping down in her chair. Lewis couldn’t move. It was wildly inappropriate, but in the storm of emotions, he could feel a distinct sense of heartbreak, of disappointment. Vivi and he had talked at length about asking Arthur if he wanted to join them, make their couple a triad. They both could barely contain or conceal how much they loved him, sunny smiles and butterflies threatening to overwhelm Lewis every time Arthur went on some kind of robotics rant that neither of them understood, or won a Smash Bros match and got that silly victorious grin, or lit up when they sacrificed their senses of smell to get him that honestly gross pizza he loved so much, or, or,  _ or, _ —! And from the frustratedly flustered looks Vivi often shot him at those times, she was also struggling with the same waves of affection. The only reason they hadn’t sprung for it was that Arthur had been under the weather for months. But here he was, in the hospital with a disease that felt like it shouldn’t exist outside of terrible romance novels, because he was pining for someone. Or, two someones? And Lewis hadn’t even noticed, too wrapped up in his own feelings! He pushed a hand through his pompadour, hunching over.

 

“Then I suggest you call Mr. Kingsman’s uncle. If we don’t intervene soon, it’s possible that not even surgery will save Mr. Kingsman.”

 

The white noise was back, disrupted only by the sounds of hitching, irregular breaths. Lewis’s chest ached. He felt Vivi’s hand run over his back, rubbing in comforting circles. It barely registered. It hurt like he’d been stabbed through the chest, the thought that Arthur, Artie, his best friend since eighth grade, the man he’d been at least kind of in love with since junior year, could be dying, right now. He could hear Vivi on the phone with Arthur’s uncle, her words to him indistinct. When she hung up, she squeezed his shoulder and leaned against him, addressing the doctor.

 

“His uncle…he wasn’t surprised. He didn’t want to talk about it on the phone. He’s on his way.” Vivi sounded calm, but her hand on his shoulder was tighter than ever before. “We’ll wait for him out in the waiting room. Can…” She paused, taking an audible breath before continuing, quieter. “Can Artie have visitors?”

 

Lewis heard Dr. Emmet stand. “He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but when he does he’ll be able to. No more than two at a time, mind you, and for no more than ten minutes. Mr. Kingsman is stable, but still in a critical state. If you’d like, someone can come get you as soon as he wakes up.” 

 

“That sounds good.” Vivi shifted beside him, leaning in near his face. “Lew? Lew, we need to go out to the waiting room.”

 

Lewis managed a hesitant nod. “I heard.” Deep breath, hand out of hair, straighten back, head up, shoulders loose. Stand up. Grip her hand. He shook his head a few times to clear it before smiling weakly at Vivi. “Let’s go?”

 

The trip back to the waiting room was quick, and the silence around them seemed to press in.

 

 

~*~   
  


 

Lance flipped the switch on the neon sign in the window and locked the door behind him as he left. This was an official family emergency, and if anyone wanted to complain about him closing early they could take it up with his fists. 

 

The boy had lasted longer than Lance thought he would. He had honestly expected to get that call maybe a week after he’d sent Arthur home, his hand-eye coordination and cough bad enough to get in the way of his work. He’d dropped a full drip pan when he coughed, that alone would have gotten him sent home, but he’d also taken nearly ten minutes to get all the lug nuts off of one wheel. And that was saying nothing of the handfuls of petals he’d left on the ground in the puddle of oil. But no, he’d lasted almost a month and a half. He was stubborn, that was his problem, stubborn and too certain of the worst-case scenario. Lance’s lips twisted. The stubbornness was a tried-and-true Kingsman trait, but the anxiety was all Arthur’s. The boy’d never grown out of thinking he was a burden on everyone around him. A childhood of being brushed off would do that to someone, he guessed, and Lance wished, again, that he’d noticed what was going on at his brother’s house earlier than he did. But the past was the past, and there was jack-shit he could do about it now.

 

What he could do now, was get to the hospital, if these assholes on the road would  _ get the hell out of his way _ ! He slammed a fist on the horn, scowling. For such a small town, Tempo had way too much traffic. It took him almost a quarter of an hour to get through.

 

It wasn’t hard to see the other two kids in the waiting room. Lance doubted that it would have been even if the room had been packed. Lewis stood head and shoulders above most people, and towered above Lance in particular. Except, this time, he wasn’t towering as much as usual. He was slumped down in a chair, shoulders tight and expression miserable, his usually impeccable pompadour disheveled. Vivi was sitting next to him, an arm behind him and her face hidden in his side. Even knowing that these two were technically responsible for Arthur’s state, it twisted at Lance’s heart to see them like that.

 

He cleared his throat. The two startled, sitting up. 

 

Lewis was the first to speak. “H-hello, Mr. Kingsman.”

 

Lance rolled his eyes. “It’s Lance to you. How many times do we gotta go over that, kid?” 

 

“Sorry, Lance.” Lewis’s smile was faltering and disappeared quickly.

 

“Uncle Lance, it’s good you’re here.” Vivi spoke, much more rapidly than Lewis. “Arthur’s in the ICU. They…the doctors say he hasn’t woken up yet, and he can only have two visitors at a time when he does..”

 

Lance forewent his usual grumble about how he wasn’t her uncle in favor of frowning heavily. “Those flowers’re really doing a number on him, then.”

 

“You  _ knew? _ For how long?” Vivi sat up straight, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

 

“‘Bout a month and a half.” Lance sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The boy asked me not to tell anyone.”

 

Vivi’s scowl was a mighty thing, but Lewis put a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Then, do you have any idea who it is?” Lewis’s eyes were wide, bright with the beginning of tears. “Vivi and I, we didn’t — we didn’t notice, how did we  _ not notice?” _ He shook his head. “Please, Mr. Ki —  _ Lance _ , do you know who he’s in love with?”

 

Lance walked to the other side of the small table, sitting down in an uncomfortable chair. Of course he knew. He’d known Arthur the entirety of the boy’s life, and his boy looked at the two in front of him like they hung the stars. It had only ever been the two of them, Lance reflected, and it wasn’t like the flower petals had done anything but confirm what he had known for years. Arthur hadn’t even told him who the flowers were for, but despite the thick coating of motor oil, it hadn’t been hard to see that the petals were Lewis and Vivi’s trademark colors. Lance didn’t want to betray his boy’s trust, but at the cost of Arthur’s life?

 

He glanced at them, running a hand over his beard. Lewis was fiddling with the edge of his apron, and Vivi was drumming her fingers on her leg. Both of them were looking at Lance with barely-concealed desperation that only grew the longer he didn’t answer. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh. “Of course I know.” 

 

“Then  _ who _ ?” Vivi demanded, hand fisting in her skirt.

 

“Kid, I thought you were some kind of detective or something. You’re telling me you’ve missed every cow-eyed stare he’s ever given the two of you?” There was a sharp inhale, and they both gaped at him. Lance shook his head. “He’s looked at you both like you hung the stars and the moon for years.”

 

“Wait, but then —” Vivi paled.

 

“But that means —” Lewis gripped at his already-mussed pompadour.

 

“It’s  _ us _ ?” They said in near perfect unison, turning first to each other, then to Lance, doing their best goldfish impressions.

 

“Yeah. Now,” Lance glared at them. “Tell me this. Am I gonna have to bury my boy? Because he’s not gonna want the surgery, I can tell you that.” He held up a hand as Vivi opened her mouth to interrupt. “Don’t mistake me. He’ll get the surgery if he has to. But despite my best efforts, the two of you are pretty much his only friends. He won’t have you anymore, and there’s a good chance that that’ll kill him.” 

  
  


~*~

  
  


Arthur was weightless, floating, warm and safe and enclosed, resting his head on Lewis’s arm. His other arm was lying across Arthur’s stomach, Vivi’s much smaller arm meeting it halfway. Vivi was tucked against Arthur’s side, her sweater soft against his skin and her soft breath tickling his collarbone. Their legs were all tangled together, hooked against each other, and Arthur felt like his heart could burst from sheer happiness. Lewis laughed softly, the sound rumbling through Arthur like thunder. “The two of you are adorable when you sleep, you know that?” 

 

Arthur snickered, and before he could respond, Vivi brought her hand up to his face, patting it blindly. “Shoosh. Too early for talking.”

 

“Vivi, it’s —” Lewis began, laughing as she batted at his face too.

 

“Don’t care. Sleeping Time Is Now.” Vivi was trying to be petulant, but a smile threatened to break through.

 

“I wouldn’t argue with her, Lew.” Arthur managed through his giggles. “It’s like arguing with a hurricane.”

 

“You’re right, you’re right.” Lewis shook his head, his smile dazzling.

 

“Damn right he is!” Vivi added, yawning and snuggling in closer to Arthur. “Now, shoosh. No more laughing, it’s sleep time.”

 

“I love you.” The words were out as soon as Arthur thought them, hanging in the air above the cuddling trio. That thick feeling in his throat was back, as was the gaping chasm behind his ribs. The colors around him began to twist and warp, fading out to darkness as he became aware of more and more: a coldness and pressure around his mouth and nose, a slight pinch at his elbow, a thin sheet draped over him, a stiff and uncomfortable bed below him, a steady beeping filling the air around him, a startling lack of discomfort from his throat. 

 

He gasped as the last of the dream faded away, tears leaking out the corner of his eyes as he brought a hand up to his chest. Just a dream. Only ever a dream. His hand drifted up to the pressure and uncomfortable chill at his nose and mouth, meeting stiff plastic. He stiffened, eyes darting wildly around. The beeping picked up pace. He was in a room full of machines and wires and — hospital beds. Of course. Fuck. He was in the hospital. The pinch in his elbow was an IV catheter, and he had a heart monitor on the same hand.

 

“Mr. Kingsman?” A voice broke into his forming spiral. A man in blue scrubs entered his field of view, holding a clipboard and looking concerned. “Can you hear me?” Arthur nodded. The man took this as his cure to continue. “My name is Dr. Langley. We’ve got you on oxygen therapy right now, but I’ve still got some questions I have to ask. Do you know where you are?”

 

“The hospital.” Arthur’s voice was muffled and raspy to his own ears, but there wasn’t any of the pain he’d come to associate with sounding like that. There wasn’t any kind of sensation, really, just numbness.

 

“That’s correct. You’re in the ICU, to be specific. Do you know why you’re here?”

 

“Hanahaki.” He tried to enunciate as much as possible.

 

“Very advanced hanahaki. It’s also spread to your chest cavity.” Arthur made an inarticulate, confused noise, and Dr. Langley continued. “In general terms, this means that the surgery, should you opt for it, has a higher mortality rate, and if you receive a confession, we’ll still have to operate to remove the remnants.”

 

“No surgery.” Arthur said, as clearly as he could. “I don’t want the surgery.”

 

“That’s certainly a choice. However, if you’re feeling up to it, there’s a few people who’d like to see you. I’ll come back after they’re finished, give you some time to consider your options.”

 

Arthur nodded quickly, though all he wanted to do was crawl into a corner and hide. Vivi was going to be so mad at him for lying about this, and Lewis was going to do his whole I’m-not-mad-I’m-just- _ disappointed _ thing, and if Uncle Lance was here then he was really in for an earful. The doctor left the room, and Arthur wasn’t given long to work himself into a panic before Lewis and Vivi were walking in. Arthur waved hesitantly, though his arm dropped halfway through. They looked about as bad as he felt, disheveled and puffy-eyed.  _ Vivi _ was crying, and Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen  _ that _ .

 

They were at his bedside in an instant. Vivi threw her arms around him, careful not to jostle him too much. Lewis wasn’t far behind, on the other side of the hospital bed.

 

“Hey guys.” Arthur managed, bringing the arm he could comfortably move up to pat Lewis on the back. Lewis made a choked sound, and Arthur could feel him pull back. Vivi, on the other hand, clung harder. Shit. He’d really fucked this up.

 

“Were you ever gonna tell us?” Vivi pulled back enough to demand, fresh tears tracking down her flushed face. Arthur just shrugged, and Vivi scowled. “If you weren’t in the hospital already, I’d totally kick your ass for this! What were you  _ thinking _ ?”

 

“Vivi,” Lewis broke in, reaching over Arthur to put a hand on her shoulder. Arthur’s stomach turned, the yawning chasm back with that echo of his dream. “Don’t overwhelm him.” Lewis broke eye contact with her, meeting Arthur’s. “Arthur…your uncle told us.”

 

And with those five words, Arthur’s world shattered. “Guys, it’s not —”

 

Lewis interrupted him, tears shining in his eyes and threatening to overflow. “Did, did you really think that we didn’t, that we wouldn’t —”

 

Vivi broke in. “Did you really think that we didn’t feel the same way?”

 

Arthur froze, his brain pulling the biological equivalent of a bright blue screen. That. That was not in the script here. He didn’t know how to process that. “What?” 

 

Lewis’s breath hitched. “We didn’t ask you out because we decided to wait until you were feeling better, Arthur, I’m so sorry!” With that, Arthur was dragged into an awkward sideways bear hug. He patted Lewis on the back on autopilot, still reeling.

 

“You…both of you, you like me? Romantically? Like, have a crush on, want to date, all that, et cetera?” He didn’t even consider that the mask was probably distorting his words, but luckily they still seemed to understand.

 

Vivi managed a watery chuckle. “Yeah, you doofus. Full on want to kiss your stupid cute face.”

 

Hesitantly, practically praying, Arthur looked away from Vivi. “Lewis?”

 

Lewis cleared his throat, releasing Arthur and wiping his face with a strained laugh. “I…yeah. I was kinda actually planning on making it a whole thing, there were gonna be flowers and we were gonna take you to a fancy sushi place out of town, but I feel like maybe now flowers would be in bad taste?”

 

“Lew, that’s almost…stupidly romantic.” Arthur laughed, grinning wider than the oxygen mask really allowed. “Though, yeah, maybe…maybe hold off on the flowers for a bit, big guy.” God, if this one was a dream too, Arthur didn’t know what he’d do. Probably just curl up and die. 

 

Though, in all his dreams, he’d never had to deal with this creeping, burning pain in his chest, and he gasped, curling up as the searing pain blazed through his chest. Things happened really fast after that, Dr. Langley bursting in, Lewis and Vivi yelling, the machines going haywire, a pinch at his arm, and then nothing.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After everything, they've earned some happiness.

Vivi smiled across the round table at her boys, taking a bite of her pickled ginger as she studied them. In the dim mood lighting and the flickering candle in the center of the table, Arthur’s eyes shone gold as he grinned at Lewis, a truly terrible pun still making their laughter ring around the restaurant.

 

“C’mon, Artie, I don’t  _ fin _ -k that one was any good.” Vivi challenged, smile flourishing into a smirk.

 

“Well if you can think of a better one, please let  _ minnow _ !” Arthur rose to the bait with a brilliant grin.

 

“Please, stop,” Lewis wheezed, covering his face. “I don’t think I can take any more.”

 

“What do you think, should we  _ scale _ it back on the puns, Vi?”

 

“I’m embarrassed to be seen with the both of you!”

 

“Aww, are we being a pain in the  _ bass _ , Lewlew?” Vivi teased.

 

“Yes. These are all  _ shrimply _ terrible!” Lewis threw back, looking proud of himself. 

 

That was the last straw for all three of them, it seemed, and Arthur almost fell off his stool laughing. Wiping a tear of laughter from her eye, Vivi looked at Arthur again, her smile fading into something softer. He was looking so much better now, and that wasn’t just because he was actually wearing something semi-formal. If a button-up shirt that Arthur had pinned the pins off his vest to really, actually counted as any kind of formal. But while she did have to admit he cleaned up nice, what really struck her was that the pale and drawn pallor had completely and utterly vanished, and his smile had lost some of the tension around the eyes. She watched as Arthur righted himself, glancing around at the sparse few other patrons nervously, and she caught Lewis’s eye. He’d been doing the same thing she had, it seemed, and he grinned back at her, unashamed.

 

Vivi stole a sushi roll from Lewis’s plate with a wink, snickering at his affronted expression. Their confession definitely could have gone better, what with Arthur being in the hospital and instantly collapsing as the flowers in his chest and lungs died, needing emergency surgery, but hey, Vivi was nothing if not good at adapting to last-minute changes in the plan. As soon as he woke up from surgery, she and Lewis officially asked him out. Of course, given that Arthur was super fucking high on pain meds when they did it, and then Uncle Lance walked in immediately after and started scolding Arthur for making him worry like that, that whole scene ended up being more hilarious than touching, but she’d take what she could get there. She just wished she’d thought to record it!

 

It was then five agonizing weeks before they could formally start going out, two weeks of visiting Arthur in the hospital and having to be kicked out by the staff most nights, and then another three of home recovery. Lewis insisted that they wait the full five weeks before going out anywhere special. And of course, it wasn’t like they were gonna take any paranormal cases with one of their members so thoroughly out of commission! Home recovery, at least, entailed a lot of cuddling and kissing, home movie dates and discovering that Arthur was terrible at Assassin’s Creed if you kissed him while he was playing. There was a lot of capital-T Talking, too, figuring out how this all was going to work. Having serious conversations about a lot of their various insecurities and boundaries, working out how the whole bed situation would go (they were keeping separate beds for now, though they usually all ended up falling asleep in one), the official maybe-temporary ban on flowers in the apartment, the works.

 

It was different and yet it wasn’t, Arthur’s addition to their relationship. Vivi thought, back when she was considering it, back when all this was hypothetical, that maybe it would be strange and awkward, the transition from couple to polycule. But here they were, a town away from Tempo at a swanky sushi joint, dressed up semi-fancy, Arthur fitting seamlessly against them. If she was honest, it felt more like it had back before she asked Lewis out, how easy it was between the three of them and Mystery. But it was even better now.

 

Vivi was broken out of her thoughts by a hand waving in front of her face, and she looked up to see Arthur sit back with a nervous but still radiant smile. “You good there, Vi? You zoned out for a moment.”

 

“I’m perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, I haven't written anything in ages and then this fandom comes along like "you're gonna write so many things"
> 
> I got through an entire fic without killing anyone! [John Mulaney voice] I didn't know I knew how to _do_ that.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for lewvithur week, but what can ya do ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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